


Way more than a replacement part

by LieutenantLoot



Category: Borderlands
Genre: Bad Puns, Comedy, F/M, Fluff, I don't know shit about mechanics, Marriage Proposal, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-10
Updated: 2016-06-10
Packaged: 2018-07-14 06:06:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7156613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LieutenantLoot/pseuds/LieutenantLoot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Axton spends a night at Scooter's garage to mend the sabre. When Maya stops by to pick him up, he finds a more valuable usage for a spare sealing ring.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Way more than a replacement part

**Author's Note:**

  * For [allhailthefirehawk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/allhailthefirehawk/gifts).



> Some fluff for allhailthefirehawk - I owe you this ♥

Before he even realized it, the chaos he kneeled in had turned into a pure massacre. He did his best to sort the torn parts into their known order but some of them were too demolished. They were sprawled around him and he needed to swallow a gulp of despair down. Being calm and steady hands were the key of this operation. He already had done well puzzling her back together though he wasn’t sure if she would make it. Or if he could keep himself together any longer.

 

He swiped of the sweat from his forehead and sighed. Axton’s hands felt crusty from dirt and dried liquids gushing from his lady – he didn’t exactly know what they were or where they came from. It didn’t matter.

 

The soldier felt like back in his first military days; he felt helpless watching her dying in his lap. He knew that one day he couldn’t patch her up, that she wouldn’t make it and that she would give her life in willingly for his.

Nevertheless it tore apart his heart.

 

 

“Ya sure ya don’t want no help?” A voice yelled from the far corner of the garage, ripping him out of his bitter thoughts. He sighed in annoyance and grunted back a plain “Yup.”.

 

Since the young mechanic asked him for the fourth time in a row, he felt regret for asking Scooter if he could use his garage in Sanctuary to work on building up the turret back up again.

 

While Scooter stumbled somewhere around on the second level Axton sat on the floor and tried to assemble the main parts of the sabre. At least it already looked like a turret again instead of what he imagined would be Krieg’s attempt on “arts”.

It had been a rough time for both of them: Weeks ago, the machinery broke down in heavy duty in war-like combat. Axton was able to tinker her up for the following missions but the combat broke her over and over again.

It was time to rebuild her and make her shine in all her grace.

 

“Ya really sure?” Scooter shouted again and took the stairs up to the streets of Sanctuary rather noisy.

 

“Yes, I’m completely sure but thank you anyways.” The commando gnarled. He was beyond the point he tried to make it sound friendly. This redneck wouldn’t touch his lady, no matter how good he was with mechanics.

 

“But don’t’cha think wheels would suit her-“

 

If Scooter would lay a hand on the sabre, it would turn out a weird crippled tank or a shooting roller skater. He shivered as the image of Clap-Trap popped up in his mind.

“Nah. I don’t. Scooter, stop it, goddamnit.” He barked at him and reached out for the next mechanical device lying beside him. The surface was patchy from acid trickle on it but asides that, it looked pretty intact.

 

“Yeah sure. Have ya’ private time with ‘er then, ‘ll be right back.” Scooter chuckled and left the garage. The door was thrown shut and Axton worried that the repairman could be offended. And that he would tell his mom about it.

The soldier sighed in relief and hoped he had the next few minutes on his own for his project he already spent too much time on for one single day. He had stopped counting the hours as well as the pitying looks and ideas for so called ‘improvements’ from Scooter.

 

By now, he’d managed to assemble some smaller pieces of metal to bigger chunks and to mend the foundation of the turret. The foot seemed to be a little unstable but with a protective construction beneath it, it should be even stronger than ever before. Maybe the dumpsters of the left behind cities could offer the material needed. He decided to give New-Old-New-New-Haven or whatever it’s been called by now a shot.

 

Basically, the biggest problem in front of him was the connection between the foundation of the turret and its rifle. Major parts of the machinery were missing and the few that were left behind were bend or torn. Without the magnetic elements, the rifle surely wouldn’t float anytime soon.

The strategic skills of an ex-sergeant offered him a ‘plan B’ soon: With unfair usage of charisma he got the permission to dismember one of Ellie’s trucks in her backyard as well as the motel’s billboard sign in Three Horns Valley. The marketing was outdated anyway.

 

Shifting from knees to his heels, he crouched to the side and tried to place the constructed rifle on top of the body. As it found its balance, he tightened the screws that hold it in place and moved his hands slowly away.  
It didn’t seem to break, even when he tried to rotate the head manually. A small grin of victory appeared in his face.

 

Just when he thought he had accomplished the hardest part of the task, he noticed a small rinse of oil dripping down the metal surface. His shoulders fell in disappointment.  
The soldier has never been technically good with machinery though he was able to make it work out for him for a short time. In military training, he passed the tests – but when his comrades fought with wrenches and welding burners, he did so with duct tape and silicone oil. He was sure he was destined to become an engineer. An engineer for death traps - but more like in unwittingly exploding Runners than Gaige’s one.

 

After a few adjustments of the head, the commando found the source of the leaking. Before he could think of a way to solve this problem not including his hand clenching around the metal, the door above his head squeaked again.

 

“Dude, she’s drippin’!” Fast steps hustled down the staircase and stopped right next to the soldier’s side.

 

“Yeah, ladies tend to that when I’m touchin’ them.” Axton huffed and tried to unscrew the turret’s head with oily fingers. After a few attempts, he was able to separate the pieces.

 

“Ya a messy one, eh?” Scooter remarked snickering.

 

Axton shot him a look and wondered if the mechanic tried to mock him for his missing abilities or if that was a plump attempt on flirting with him. Either way, he marveled where Scooter found the balls to do so.

 

“Messy ‘n rough – but said to be very good at that.” He winked back and didn’t bother waiting for the younger one to blush.  
The sabre’s head in his hands, he pondered on its weight but it wasn’t heavier than he remembered so the pressure probably wasn’t the problem. Or maybe it was. He didn’t know shit about hydraulic systems and leakages except for mending them with shady means. His eyes wandered helplessly to Scooter.

“Mind lending a helping hand with that?”

  
The mechanic to his side stepped closer and squatted in front of the tower. Together they dissembled the top with screws turned home too tight and a few metal surfaces he said to be too rusty so they had to be sanded down.  
“There it is!” Scooter exclaimed when he dismantled the faceplate of a piece which’s purpose was unknown to Axton.

Beneath it a joint ring swam in a small lake of black slippery oil gushing over the edges. It wasn’t broken yet but obviously damaged and not sealing anything at all. Axton fished it from the oily sea and held the small ring in his fingers since he was covered with splatters anyway.

He remembered that it was Scooter he was with and bit back the joke about it resembling Handsome Jack-off’s cockring for being so small – he wasn’t in for the discussion Scooter would start afterwards.

 

“I guess I ‘ave a spare one ‘o these upstairs.” Scooter mumbled over his shoulder, analyzing the ring in his hands. Instead of taking measurements, he got to his feet and disappeared in a cabinet. In the back of Axton’s head, he muffled the thought that the younger one was familiar with small sizes so he didn’t need any measuring. One day he would go to hell for that mindset of his, he was sure.

 

While Scooter made a few rattling sounds and dropped a cuss now and then, Axton sorted the different components back in a logical order and started scraping of the biggest chunks of rust covering them. Red dust mixed with the oil on the floor to a disgusting dirty clumping mess.

He sat flatly on the floor, trying not to inhale too much of the dirt he stirred up and felt his limbs aching after rolling around on the garage’s floor for more hours than he would’ve liked.

 

 

“Axe?”

Over the rumbling noises he hadn’t heard the door to his far side being pushed open.

“Come on, you’re kidding me. You know it’s my turn with laundry.”

If the familiar blue-toned appearance in the doorframe hadn’t had already put a smile on his face, the annoyed sigh definitely would have.

 

“I’m sorry but I was too curious if the siren-look would suit me.” Axton grinned and pointed to the rinses of oil splattered over his bare arm as Maya walked towards him, holding a bundle of fabric in front of her chest. She stepped behind him, resting one hand casually on his shoulder.

 

They heard muffled words from the cabinet Scooter almost completely disappeared in; Axton thought he said something about ‘their clubhouse being down the other road’ but it was too quiet to understand his words properly. The vault hunters shot each other a confused look and shrugged it off.

 

“So how’s your girlfriend?” Maya asked quiet but loud enough for Axton to hear and squatted next to the sitting soldier. She gave the machinery a few analyzing looks but the confusion in her face showed that she was even more helpless than Axton was.

 

“She’s better than before but still not working. The rifle is movable and fits but we have a leakage.” He comprehended and sighed deeply. It’s been a long day’s work however he was quite satisfied with the progress so far. Especially for not using duct tape.  
This whole process took more time and concentration than he thought but there weren’t many missions left to do anyway.

 

Behind them, Scooter pulled himself out of the metal cabinet. He swept some dust of his clothes and held a few metal rings that looked similar to the one in Axton’s fingers.

“’ah found some but I guess they’re too big. See?” Without any further warning, he threw them towards the vault hunters who caught them rather clumsily. In comparison to the broken element, they were enormous. He stacked them next to the different metal parts just so that Scooter would find them afterwards.

 

“Maybe Ellie has somethin’ fitting down at her shop? It’s not too late to visit her, is it?” Axton suggested bluntly. He was already fighting to get off his sore ass when Maya grabbed his arm and hold him back down. She shot him a devious look and turned her head back to Scooter.

 

“Don’t you think that you could go visit Ellie? She’d be glad to see you!” She chirped and tightened her grip around the soldier’s arm slightly: A small hint to support her.

 

“Phhht, our Rambo here can sit on his lazy ass while I look for the missing components? Nah, sorry lady, won’t do that.” Scooter shook his head and crossed his arms in front of his chest.

 

Axton nodded and felt Maya’s fingers clenching on his upper arm. For a second he wondered why she didn’t slip for the oil on his skin but the disagreement to his suggestion in her fingers was too strong to do so.

To answer him, he grinned and made sure to give him the dirtiest look he could offer without being called a molester afterwards.

“You’re right, I could go there; she was pretty generous the last time I asked her for a favor, ya’ know….”

 

Scooter froze for a moment. That had been a sweet spot being hit.

“Err… I wanted to stop at hers soon anyway, so… see ya’.”

On a sudden his movements were quick and hurried and before the part of the vault hunter squad could make a remark about it, a Runner was on its way to Ellie’s garage. He knew that that hadn’t been a fair move but there are no rules in war, love and family cardboard games. And two of the circumstances have been bothering him for a while now.

 

 

Without the rambling mechanist the garage seemed almost empty and quiet. The radio somewhere behind a wall played some trashy music now and a few sounds from the streets echoed through the open garage gate. Axton tried to remember the last time he was in a place this peaceful and calm.

 

“She’ll kill me if she finds out what I just said.” Axton huffed and placed his now free arm on the floor to lean against it.

 

“Sure” Maya nodded, “she’ll make it look like a warmhearted hug. And then you’re dead.”  She placed herself next to Axton on the hall’s floor and shifted to the side, cuddling herself around the brown fabric left in her arms.

 

“Yeah and before that happens, I need my turret ready again.” He chuckled and let his gaze slip over to Maya. It was unusual for her to show up surprisingly in their free time; she was rather found training, reading or being way too busy on her feet for random chitchat. He worried for that change of habit.

“So why did you want Scooter to back off? To be honest, he was helpful…”

 

“May I be honest?” she asked mumbling.

He nodded quickly and was unsure what he had to expect.

“You, sir, look like shit.”

 

Maya was probably the most polite member from their squad and restrained the cussing and swearing to a minimum level. Especially for Pandorian standards, she was a saint. So telling her closest ones they resembled excrements wasn’t exactly her usual style.  
As Axton frowned and uttered a confused sound, she smiled and shifted a little closer.

“You’ve been working for hours, Axe, and you’d keep going if you could. You need a break. And a shower.”

The siren reached out to scratch some dirt from his arm but it rather blended in than came off.

 

Axton looked down on his arm and nodded agreeing for the scratches and scars being decorated with rusty and black streaks. Her pale fingers still hovered on his skin standing out against the dark markings.  
For a second he considered how he could cover her too, so they could shower together - but he feared he was too sore for that. A part of him regretted the time he spent in the garage.

 

“Yeah, I know, but the basic construction’s almost finished! I can’t leave her leaking like that.”

Even though he didn’t know exactly the consequences of the missing sealing, he feared that the machinery had already suffered enough due to the last weeks’ combat. If it would keep her from breaking apart completely, he would work in the presence of five Scooters for days straight. But he was exhausted and still missing pieces.

 

“I guess Scooter will take longer than you’d like and you can work on that leakage tomorrow morning still.” Maya said and lifted the brown clump of fabric in her arms. “I just strolled down here to drop your jacket and wanted to back off to the HQ’s soon. Consider joining me?”

 

“Nah, there’s still work to do, so…”  
  
“I hate saying that phrase so often - but I won’t leave without you, Ax.”

 

Axton focused on the jacked with squinting eyes. His mind was rattling and if it wasn’t for his self-control, he’d already grabbed her hand and ran back to the Crimson Raider’s shelter in no time.

He remembered a drunken night out somewhere in the vastnesses of Pandora after a hell of a day when they had sat beneath the stars and shared one of the talkative nights. Back then, she had sworn that she wouldn’t leave combat without him and enticed him to a pinky promise that he wouldn’t either. He had felt childish back then still he knew that it was the right thing to do.

He couldn’t really believe that she still held her promise, even for a trivial situation like this late evening and that she tried to convince him to go with her. For now, he needed to push away the thought of ‘wife-material’ from those hopeful eyes away until the Hyperion’s dictator laid face down in his grave. And for that, he needed the turret to work.

Since she mentioned it, he reached out for the jacket - she dodged his grip and held it an arm’s length away from him. Even though she warned him that he could wash it himself next time, he continued gasping for the fabric and ended up leaving nothing but dirty fingerprints on the siren’s too white skin. He struggled with his balance reaching out to far and stretched out on the dusty floor awkwardly.

 

“Fine then,” the soldier sighed defeated and rolled himself up again, “could you give me what’s in the right pocket there?” He pointed to the jacket and waited for Maya cautiously grabbing out for what he demanded. Skeptically, she pulled out two tangled chains; one with a ring, one with dogtags on it. Eyes on the knot in her hands, she grew a little pale. With small movements, she pulled on one edge of a string tearing a loop out of the knot.

 

“I, uhm…” she started, poking desperately at the mess in her hands. “I can untangle that… maybe…” she mumbled and grew even a little paler. Her eyes slowly met Axton’s, afraid of his reaction, but the tension left her as she heard him chuckle and saw no anger nor fierce in his face.

 

“Nah, ‘ts alright. Don’t worry, I hope it’s the last time I’ll need this fucker.” He laughed and took the tangled mess out of her hands. In the corner of his eye, he thought a bit of color was crawling back into Mayas face.

Euphoric for the idea that had struck him, he sloppily wiped his hands on his pants and grabbed a larger screw driver from somewhere behind him. Tools and metal components were sprawled around him just as messily as toys around a playing child. Or corpses around them on battlefields. The difference was marginal.

 

He turned the heavy piece of jewelry in his fingers for the last time. It had felt too heavy around his neck alongside with the memories connected to it. Axton felt weird about giving it away, hovering somewhere between a new start, freedom and missing a part of himself.

“Hope that this time it’s appreciated.” He winked towards Maya who clawed into the bundle in her arms.

 

“Axe, what are –“ She uttered in disbelief for already seeing what he was up to.

 

Before she could continue, he tightened his grip around the tool and placed the pointy tip of the screw driver at the setting of the former wedding ring. Steadily he started levering the stone out of its rim, slipping once or twice and leaving minimal scratches on the stones surface. I took more pressure than he had assumed but finally it separated from the metal with a sharp ‘cling’ sound and fell down into his lap.

“Isn’t purple like your favorite color?” He murmured barely noticeable and tossed the heavy stone to Maya. She hauled it instinctively and kept it in her fingers even though the look on her face showed her dislike for the object. It was too opulent for her taste, shining brighter than Salvador’s shaved ass in the sun. But maybe she didn’t like it for its former owner.

 

Axton crouched next to the disassembled basic structure of the turret and stooped over the single components next to it. In the stack of sealing rings Scooter had offered before, the old and used one looked pretty striking for being black and way smaller. He grabbed the black one and held it next to the wedding ring he just had demolished.

“Boomshackalacka.”

He grinned as he placed one over the other.

A perfect match.

 

“I hoped for a quite different lady for my next marriage, ya’ know…” he chuckled and pushed the new ring into the machinery. The edge he created splitting it into two pieces scraped down the turret’s basic structure but left no bigger damage. For once, a spontaneous mending plan created by the commando seemed to work out. He started to wonder for how long it would.

 

“Are you sure that ‘marriage’ is the right thing…?” Maya wondered with high pitched laughter and a missing snort at the end. In short form, with fake laughter.  
Axton looked over his shoulder and shot her a suspecting look – she still sat on the floor, face turning pink slightly. She kept her eyes busy avoiding Axton’s.

 

“Meaning ‘right thing’ as in ‘right term’ or as in ‘the right thing to believe in’?” The soldier murmured and received a halfhearted shrug as an answer. He got that she felt uncomfortable about that issue of marriage whenever they had talked about it but it had never stopped him before, so why should it now? Mercy wasn’t exactly his best feature, neither on the battlefield nor in his social life. Especially not in the sheets.

 

The siren in his back rolled her eyes and even though he couldn’t see it, he knew the reaction was there, causing him a small smile.

“I’ve seen _really_ weird relationships on Pandora still marriage between an autogun and a human jerk would top that.” She stated chirping.

 

“Maybe it’s not the right term, yet still pretty close, don’tcha think?” He hummed ignoring the slight taunt and turned around to face the sabre again. For dismembering and modifying the same parts over and over again, the movements to build the turret’s base up felt almost familiar despite his lack of handiness. In the process, he couldn’t spot oil leaking from the lady’s neck.

 

Next to him, Maya grumbled in a questioning matter.

 

“She would give in everything for me. Anytime. And so would I do for her.”

This was certainly not the first time he spoke of the autogun but wasn’t able to think of anything but Maya.

He shifted to his knees and lifted the turret’s rifle onto the prepared neck. It didn’t work out too well lifting it on his own; also it was way harder to place correctly than with the assistance before.

A very small voice deep in the back of his head told him that he should feel sorry for have being annoyed by the mechanist and treating him rather roughly. He knew that it only spoke for the sake of his own benefits and not Scooter’s friendly presence – However, it was drowned out by the one shouting at him that he wouldn’t be played out in front of the siren, even though she was basically the only person on Pandora who wouldn’t take advantage of his failure to stab him in the back.

  
“Guess that’s what makes it the right thing to do, too, like when a pinky promise isn’t enough anymore.”

His tone had dropped low as he adjusted the rifle in its correct position. Until now, the sealing seemed to be working. He tried to keep concentrating on the metal in his hands but his mind wandered over to the siren, just like he would have loved to.

 

Maya didn’t respond at first. The silence between them laid heavily, only interrupted by small sounds of metal clinging together when Axton checked the movability of the rifle.

 

“It’s a huge ass commitment.” She agreed softly. “A bonding that should only be ripped apart by death.”  
The last words were merely hearable. For that he wasn’t sure if sarcasm was speaking and she was mocking him or if she simply feared the form of allegiance. Being obliged wasn’t exactly Mayas cup of tea.

This was why he was scared to ask her if her promises reached further than Pandora’s borders. Once Handsome Jack had found his grave, would they split up, join the Crimson Raiders or continue fighting as vault hunters? He certainly couldn’t go back to Dahl and he was sure that he couldn’t make it alone out there as a head hunter, not anymore. Probably because he would be busy stalking Maya down.  
Just when he thought about the absurdity of asking Zer0 for ninja advice, he heard a deep sigh coming from the siren.

 

“But hey, I fight death every other day and if I can swear on my pinky, I can swear on my ring finger, too.”  
Her snickering ended on a beloved small snort and the honesty in her voice made up for the lack of confidence in her face. But he knew that she meant it by a look in her loving eyes.

 

Considering the stable stand of the turret in front of him and Maya waiting patiently as an angel for him to answer in his back since he was busy keeping the jubilance _in_ side of his head, he threw over his schedules for the night. Hell, for the next weeks and months.  
Schemes of life? Fuck ‘em.

The plain old sealing ring found its way back into Axton’s fingers.

 

“Sure thing, I’m in for that - still I don’t wanna lose a finger in this damn thing here now,” he pointed to the turret “so could you lend me hand?” He asked as casual as he was able to even if he felt his heart racing faster than a Runner on Torgue’s racing tracks.

 

He heard her getting up on her feet and felt her knees then bumping into his back softly. She stooped over him and her hand reached out to the mechanics in front of them.

 

“Nah, your left one, please.” Axton requested.

 

With a confused sound she withdrew her right hand to place it on his shoulder and offered her left one. Immediately, the soldier grabbed it and held it carefully in place. He let his eyes wander over the blue spiral markings on her skin.

 

“In for extension of the pinky promise?” He gulped.

The grip on his shoulder tightened in a soothing manner and he was sure that this was the worst blink of an eye of his life, including every single second of combat and war. Love was so stressful.

“Anytime.”

 

He felt her spare arm curling around his shoulder and her check against his neck, holding him closer.  
As steadily as possible with a menacing heart attack, he took the plain black sealing ring and slid it over her left ring finger. It left a trace of dirt on her skin but she had dark fingerprints on it anyway. A look Axton was sure he could get used to.

 

Just when she shifted around him gracefully to sit on his lap and slug her arms around his neck, his hands tucked her shoulders and kept a small distance between them.

Maya’s brows rose in confusion and Axton was sure the worried look in her face would drive him nuts sooner or later.

 

“One more thing.” He demanded calmly.  
  
She nodded and her eyes flickered between his’ and the ring on her hand.  
Axton sighed in defeat; his ego indulged for honesty’s sake. He had stuck in this kind of situation before and in the end, it had wrecked him worse than any loader possibly have could.  
He knew it was a cliché demand but he was certain he wouldn’t survive seeing himself fallen to pieces again. His voice broke hoarse.

“Just don’t break my heart.”

 

A broad smile appeared on Maya’s face when the grip on her shoulders loosened. She leaned in closer and rested her forehead against his’. Blue strands of hair brushed against his skin.

  
“You should know that by now but I’ll say it once again” she smiled,

“Sirens do it better.”

**Author's Note:**

> Still sailing happily on this ship that turns out to be a cruiser for me.


End file.
